


People To Come Home To

by xoxoMouse



Series: PJO Personal Canon (Solangelo Centric) [10]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Also fuck Hades I remember him telling Nico he wished he were dead, But I'll tag it as Blofis to appease the tag system, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergent, Fluff, Gen, HoO - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, I don't forget even if Rick does, If you think Sally did not offer to adopt Nico and let him live with her and Paul you're braindead, It could be either, Nico has family, Okay first of all Paul took Sally's last name and Estelle's last name is jackson, PJO, Sally adopts Nico, She knows what it's like to be an orphan, This takes place somewhere in Toa? Maybe after?, ToA - Freeform, chb, mostly comfort, no one fucking touch me im crying, post HOO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25417285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxoMouse/pseuds/xoxoMouse
Summary: Nico stops by the Jacksons' when he needs to remind himself he has parents who are waiting for him to come home, even if Hades isn't one of them.
Series: PJO Personal Canon (Solangelo Centric) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884076
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80





	People To Come Home To

Nico knew better than to shadow travel into the middle of Sally Jackson’s apartment. It just wasn’t polite. He knew enough to remember that, even when he was so close to breaking into pieces on her welcome mat. 

He knocked softly and took a step back from the door so she could see him from the peephole if she looked. His leather jacket pooled over his shoulders, so large on him that he was practically swimming in it. It was spring now and the extra layers were unnecessary in NYC but the underworld always left a bit of a chill in his bones—especially after visits as bad as the one he’d just come from. He took comfort in burying his fists in his pockets and letting his jacket swallow him. 

Her face lit up when she saw that it was him. He could count the people who smiled at him like that on his fingers and still had to remind himself that the fact he had to use both hands to do it was a blessing. 

When Nico thought of his own mother, he couldn’t help but fill in the blanks with bits and pieces of Mrs. Jackson. He’d managed to track down a blurry picture of Maria di Angelo in the New York Library’s news archives. _'Italian diplomat and family to attend a conference in NYC.’ T_ he headline had read. It showed three people stepping off a plane and onto an airstrip, all dressed formally in black. He assumed the older man and the older woman were his grandparents and the younger woman accompanying them was his mother. She was young, so it had to have been before Bianca was born. He had ached at the sight of her, ached for the memories that were stolen by the Lethe and the memories that he would never have the chance to make now that she was gone. His mother looked nothing like the woman standing in front of him if he was being truthful, but he supposed the overlap in his mind came from the desperate longing for a mother who loved him as much as Mrs. Jackson loved her own son. 

Mrs. Jackson’s dark hair was graying around her temples and her curls were gathered into a ponytail at the base of her neck. Even if she hadn’t been smiling there would be the evidence of joy—she smiled so much her face remembered the feeling even when her mouth didn’t. Her eyes were deep green with a ring of brown around her pupil and they reminded him of the forests around Camp in the way that they felt as close to home as he’d ever gotten before. No matter what he’d done over the years she’d never once looked at him like the monster he’d often felt like he was. 

“Nico!” She ushered him quickly inside and shut the door behind them. “It’s so good to see you.” 

It wouldn’t matter where Paul and Sally lived, their home would always be welcoming and warm as long as they were there. Nico shrugged off his coat and hung it on a peg by the door. He was safe here. 

“Is that Stella?” 

Paul was on the couch, bouncing a toddler on his knee and cooing to her. He raised her chubby arm to have her wave at him. “Hey Nico, what brings you by?” He asked. 

Nico knew it wasn’t his place to approve or disapprove of who Mrs. Jackson chose to spend her life with, but he was happy she’d chosen Paul. He was dorky and nice and he trusted Nico enough to place his fragile daughter in his arms and muss up his hair as he stood to go to the kitchen. Nico smiled at Estelle Jackson, with her large brown eyes and huge cheeks and button nose. 

“I’m just visiting,” he answered without tearing his eyes away from her. He touched his finger lightly to her nose and she giggled the most precious laugh at him. 

“Well,” Paul said, disappearing around a doorway and projecting to be heard across the apartment. “You need to start coming around more often. Stella’s starting to recognize faces.” 

“Oh, Hon, check the cookies!” Mrs. Jackson called. She took a seat on a cream-colored recliner with a book face down on the armrest and smiled fondly at her daughter in Nico’s arms. “Oh, see, now _that’s_ candid material.” 

Estelle was tugging on the collar of his skull t-shirt and trying to stuff her other fist into her mouth. The wisps of hair on her head were just as curly as her mom’s and older brother’s. He’d recognize them as kin anywhere and he really couldn’t help but smile at her, thankful she found him interesting and not scary. 

“Who can she remember so far?” He asked. 

“Well, Mama and Papa, of course,” Mrs. Jackson told him. A ding went off from the kitchen and he heard the opening and closing of the oven door. 

“Don’t burn yourself, Paul!” 

“I won’t!” 

Sally shook her head with amusement at her husband, her attention back on the kids as more shuffling came from around the corner. “She knows Paul’s mother, I think, but really Percy and Annabeth are her favorites. They never let her touch the ground the whole time they’re here and she’s moody a full day after they leave.” 

Well, that was relatable. He curled a strand of her hair around his finger. 

“And you,” She continued. “She’ll know you in no time if you just stop in a little more often.” 

Nico bit the inside of his cheek. When things went bad with his father, he always came to the Jacksons’. Something about being here made everything just a little bit better, no matter how awful he felt. “I will,” he promised. “You guys are like family to me.” 

Paul came in balancing a plate of cookies in one hand and a place with three cups of milk on it in the other. “You’re always welcome here,” he told him. 

Stella didn’t have teeth yet but Nico broke off a piece of cookie and soaked it in milk to get it mushy enough for her to gum at before he gave it to her. 

His evening was spent talking to Sally about her latest writing project and playing blocks with Estelle on a cushy mat in the middle of their living room floor as Paul graded tests kids in his class had taken the day before. Estelle was practically already asleep when Paul picked her up put her to bed but Nico made sure to kiss the top of her head one more time before seeing her off. He said his goodbyes. It was as good a time as any to ship out, wouldn’t want to overstay his welcome. 

Mrs. Jackson saw him to the door and after he’d slipped his jacket on, she pulled him in close for a hug. It didn’t matter how much taller he got, hugging her would always bring him back to that first time they met years ago when he was scrawny and scared, with no idea what his future held besides suffering even though he was so achingly only eleven. He inhaled her perfume and tried to keep a little pocket of her warmth somewhere hidden away inside of him to pull out the next time he needed to remember he had reasons to smile. 

She let him go and rested her hand on his shoulder, the other smoothing down the hair that Paul had ruffled hours earlier and he hadn’t bothered to fix. “As far as I’m concerned,” She told him, “Estelle has _two_ big brothers. So you need to come home to visit us as often as possible and for as long as possible; when you’re not out saving the world.” 

Nico knew if he spoke his voice would break on a sob, so he nodded instead. She walked him to the elevator and he whispered a small “Thank you.” as the automatic doors slid shut. 

The stinging in his eyes stopped when he was finally able to wipe the tears away without her seeing him cry. Some of them were from grief, he wouldn’t lie, but mostly they came from the feeling of acceptance that just being with the Jacksons had given him. 

“Thank you,” he said again even though Mrs. Jackson was far out of earshot. He would never be able to say exactly how much her kindness truly meant to him. When everything else was coming apart, Sally Jackson was someone who made him remember he had people who loved him. She helped him remember he had people waiting for him to come home. 


End file.
